Like the burning of the sun
by JeffersonCB
Summary: Alternate ending to the 20 10 Wolfman movie. Sir John has had his eye on Gwen since Ben brought her home to meet him and the beast will have it's day. Unbeknownst to her, he is very much alive after the battle with Lawrence and determined to take her, even if he has to do it by force. WARNING: sexual and violent themes so not for kiddies. Just flexing my typing muscles really here.
1. Chapter 1

There's a certain way of telling when a lady is in the house; you can sense it, practically smell it from the carriageway. All the more potent for the fact that there hasn't been a female on the estate since my Wife was killed. I vaguely recall a night, many years ago now, a crimson night. The blood from her throat had trickled between her breasts, like a luscious ravine. Rivulets of scarlet nectar trickled from the icy flesh, to my eager tongue. She had always tasted wonderful, even without the metallic sweetness. Ah but that was a long time ago. I truly believe I am too old to find another wife. Then came Gwen Conliffe, and what a sight she was the day my boy presented his fiancée to me. I remember it clearly, the sapphire blue dress and the deathly pale complexion, just like Solana's on that glorious evening. She looked half frightened to death by the very sight of me. Damn it all if I wasn't going to have her! Little does she know that I have her crypt all planned out beside my beloved Wife's. Her addition to the shrine will be truly magnificent.

Her scent drifts down the dark hallways at night, always at night, while the silent moon watches and waits until I can claim what should be mine. I must be grateful, I suppose, that she chose Ben instead of Lawrence. I'd have hated to cut my line short, but Ben will never take after me. I'm glad it's him. I Should be unhappy that one of them must go at all, but he keeps me from what I desire. The beast simply won't allow it any longer. Every few nights he plagues my dreams with images of her, drowning in her own blood and begging me to save her but when I extend my hand she transforms and the wolf drags me below into the suffocating blackness. I awaken in a cold sweat, screaming my lungs out and so highly aroused my groin aches. I never touched myself as a young man, before I was married, but the first time I woke in this state I was so desperate for some kind of relief I took myself in hand and tried to imagine the silk of her skin and the blue-tint above her veins. After several minutes of what felt like heaven, I stopped, resolved to resist the perverse urges the wolf brought upon me. Perhaps it was unwise to taunt the beast. The next night, the ache was so strong I could do nothing but pant and whine as the wolf viciously gripped me, and wrenched with all his might. When he eventually forced me to climax with a snarl of satisfaction, I rolled over and sobbed like a child into my pillows, weeping out the blinding pain. The next day my manhood throbbed, and I did my very best to suppress the growling in my throat whenever she passed by me, all pulsing veins and temptation. The full moon was rising. How sweet would she taste after the bitterness of my offspring? Through the haze of brandy, whiskey and the contents of my bedroom wine rack I remember his bitter after-taste.

A wise man once said that good things come to those who wait. So I waited. I waited and waited, waited until her tears had dried up and she could cry no more, grieving for my son. I grieved too, in my own way, and my abstinence from self-gratification was punished again most severely. Another savage release granted, followed by a day of wincing and whining. How pathetic and foolish I was to fight it time and again, but all good things to those who wait. Alas, I waited too long and she returned from London with my son in tow, my heir and ultimately my destruction. Once I baptised him in the name of the wolf, his arousal in her presence almost rivalled my own, and I could never be sure whose pheromones were clouding up the dining room. Still, I had to give his restraint it's due credit. He never touched what was mine. Oh he wanted to, and oh how the beast tortured him too. Our strangled cries in the empty nights became indistinguishable.


	2. Chapter 2

I read the reports of his escape from that dreaded asylum with pride and jubilation. My boy became a man in his own right that full moon. Were it not for the interruptions of Miss Conliffe and Inspector Aberline I might have been overcome when he came to destroy me. Not that I feared my impending death by that time.

I would never be left in peace once Lawrence revealed my condition. More importantly, I would never be permitted to see Gwen again, and my feral libido couldn't accept that fate. The final battle was a marvel, the greatest spectacle ever to take place under the roof of Talbot hall. And the way that silver bullet rang out across the grounds, echoing off the trees and stones could have put the most renowned orchestra to shame. As for Aberline's howling, it was significantly more impressive than his bite. I can't blame the poor man for not having quite mastered the art of the lycan but I have never killed anything so quickly in all my years of transformation.

Conliffe fled to the stables, cowering and quivering in the empty stall just inside the left entrance. The leather strap of a bridle hanging limply over her exposed right shoulder was fascinating. I watched it sway in time with her breath, leaning on the post jutting from the wall of her stall and completely immersed in shadow. I shall have to acquire a horse, name it after her and shelter it in that stall in memory of the occasion. I followed her to the station, to London and to the doors of her hotel. Not a soul even glanced at my darkly cloaked figure stalking the streets around it, waiting until she exited the building. I felt my skin healing day by day, until even my hair had grown back. Still she had not ventured outside. Naturally I grew incredibly frustrated. I had triumphed over sons and demons to take her to my bed, and her reclusive grief grated on my patience. I refused to tease myself any longer, and traced her scent to her suite, a decent sized, top floor set of rooms. I held back until nightfall, and when the moon was high in the sky, I stole into her chamber without a sound.


	3. Chapter 3

Gwen lay asleep on her back, one arm hanging out of the side of the canopied bed. The colour would have been impossible to see in the dark were it not for John's superhuman senses. His eyes showed him a wine red curtain with inked black curtain rails. The colours mimicked those of drying blood and his heart rate jumped up. Finally, he would take her for his own and keep her beside him forever. There was no one left to stop him.

"Gwen," he whispered, "wake up my love. There's someone very special come for you." She stirred and opened her sleepy eyes a fraction, though not really registering what she saw. His eyes teeth glinted in the moonlight streaming in through her open curtains and the fire of hell shone brightly in his eyes. Her own eyes flew open and he threw a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. A mumbled mess of curses and exclamations were lost in his palm; he simply watched her exhaust herself trying to push him away, a wolfish grin firmly plastered across his face. Even without his animal strength, her arms would never have dislodged his greater weight from the side of the bed. "Gwen, I'd like you to listen to me. I hope you'll listen carefully, I really do, because I'm going to tell you something very important. Yes, you see I'm alive. No, that wasn't it. I followed you here to warn you that I need you." Her pupils contracted and she began flailing her arms at him wildly trying to escape the iron vice he now applied to her shoulders, which felt remarkably delicate in his large hands.

"Please, get off me! You're hurting me Sir John! No, no, get away!" She cried, futilely pushing against him, trying to wriggle further over the bed to make a break for it.

"Oh no you don't, my girl," chuckled John, swinging his left leg over her hips and pinning her beneath him, "you're not going anywhere until I've had my fill of you. Have you any idea how often I have wanted to fuck you?" she winced at his sudden crudity, which he took to be an answer. "No of course not, my whelp of a boy never got to show you how that feels. Well don't worry my dear, I promise you'll know this pleasure soon enough." He threw back his head and laughed, a maniacal laugh that bounced around the room and left an eerie silence ringing in its wake.

"Please Sir John, I know you are better than this. Please don't…don't do this." She sobbed, weakly fluttering her legs against his. His expression hardened and he responded by curling his lips and growling, rubbing himself against her. His chest was solid and unyielding; his arousal was evident, though not complete. 'My God,' thought Gwen, 'He's really going to do it. I'm going to be raped by a werewolf. An insane werewolf. Please god, let him kill me quickly.' As if he could read her thoughts, he inhaled sharply and plunged his mouth down to the pulse in her throat. All she saw was a flash of white before his teeth made contact, nibbling and pricking her skin. A droplet of blood formed where one canine had pierced her. She shrieked and twisted away when he lowered his mouth, tongue protruding slightly, toward the wound.

"Gwen, I can make this far more painful if you so wish. Continue to fight me and I will be delighted to show you how much I want you. Do you feel this?" he hissed, lightly thrusting himself against her nightclothes. She whimpered, briefly wondering at what point he had withdrawn her bed covers. "That is all for you, every glorious inch. Deny me; I can and will force you. It's up to you whether or not you suffer through as much pain as I can cause you." She stared up into his glowing blue eyes and saw nothing there, no pity or remorse for his evil words. Only that hellish glow. Slowly she lifted one hand off the bed toward his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as she stroked the thick beard covering his jaws, gently scratching below his chin. A low hum emanated from his chest, like a cats purr, and he nuzzled her fingertips all around his jaws, ears and forehead.

"John, please. You don't have to do this. I swear not to tell if you let me go now. Please." She breathed, clinging on to the calm of the previous moment.

"sshhh, pleading doesn't sound good on you" he murmured, his eyes still closed, "we were getting on so well. Don't think by feigning affection that I'll forget what I came for." His eyes snapped open; his hand shot up and yanked hers down to his groin, forcing her open palm against his prominent semi-erection. She cried out and struggled to lift herself to release the pressure in her wrist from his grip, unintentionally pressing her face into his collar. Before she could think about her position, he had tilted his chin up and tucked her head beneath it as though he were comforting a small child. She couldn't help but notice that his natural scent was quite appealing, a potent mixture of musk and wood smoke; a faint hint of old books and candle wax. She sighed deeply, unnerved by his threats and left with no real choice. As she took a breath to speak, she gently curled her fingers underneath him and continued the scratching motion he had enjoyed so much. His shallow, hissing breath told her that she'd caught him off guard.

"John, did you mean what you said? If I do this with you, you'll let me go?" she breathed into the hair just below his ear.

"I never said I would let you go. I can't. But," he pressed, before she could interrupt, "I promise I won't hurt you, not if you don't give me reason to. I never wanted to hurt you Gwen. Just to make you feel how I've burned for this every day, every night since I first saw you."

"Oh," she sighed, suddenly uncertain.

"Oh god Gwen don't stop," He snapped, jerking his hips and grinding himself against her hand, " I swear by the moons light and the blood running beneath your hand," he paused to wink, though the gesture was somewhat lost given their position, "If you make love to me at my command, you will never be harmed again. Not by me, and definitely not by any other, ever again. You will want for nothing, we will amuse ourselves any way we please in our own house far from anyone else. This is your last chance Gwen."

"What do you mean?" she whispered, growing fearful again. His thoughts seemed to be shifting in his mind and for a moment he didn't answer. He began nuzzling her again, his bristled cheeks tickling her nose. She breathed him in again, momentarily forgetting to hate him, and a new sensation washed over her. It felt something like a warmth spreading over her, settling in her stomach. A tingling feeling followed and the unmistakeable rush of excitement when his lips brushed hers. Just there, he paused, hovering over her, gazing down at the flushed face beneath his.

"I mean, after this point I will take all I wish and not consider your pleasure until you cooperate. You are entirely at my mercy and I'm not above taking full advantage of my current position. Believe me when I say that my fulfilling of my fantasies will be agonisingly painful and it would be far better for you to simply accept my proposition..."


End file.
